Chapter Fifteen #2
I wait for a couple of minutes, hovering at the edge of the crowd, to see if Julian is going to come back, but he seems entranced by one of the performers, and I have no intention of following him around like a lost puppy.
Maybe if I head back to the kitchen now, the others will still be waiting for me.
It’s only just past nightfall. Decision made, I shove a couple of bites of fruit into my mouth, discard my plate, and start to cut my way around the milling fae back toward the castle.
As I near the entrance to the festivities, I pass by one of the fountains of wine, the one with the peacock.
On a whim, I grab a silver goblet and fill it with rose-colored liquid before I walk off.
Might as well partake so I can say I’m the one human who attended, albeit briefly, a fae ball.
Lifting the goblet to my lips, I take a sip before I continue walking.
The flavor explodes across my tongue. It tastes like sunlight and moonlight and flowers.
It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever had in my entire life, and I know, in this moment, that I’ll never be able to drink a pint of ale in a pub again.
Pausing, I take another sip. I’m tempted to down the entire goblet, but I decide to take the rest to Yenna and Carmeline and the others.
They should taste this nectar of the stars.
They’re the ones who made this ball come to life, after all.
I take a couple of steps toward the castle and the world spins.
I bump into someone who snarls at me like a wild animal.
Through my fractured vision, I can see the last of the party lights ahead.
I’m a few feet from freedom. But suddenly I feel as if I could fly away.
I feel so light, so weightless, so full of effervescence, that I lift my arms because it actually feels possible that I could fly all the way to the castle.
And then, if I’ve missed my kitchen friends, I can fly around Shadow’s Keep until I find them.
Warmth spreads through my body and I feel so euphoric that, for several moments, I forget I’m on a mission to get back to the castle.
I turn in a slow circle and the colors hit me like a thousand rainbows.
The lights. The floating art. The performers.
And the fae themselves. Why are they all so beautiful?
They shouldn’t exist in the same world that I do.
It makes no sense at all. I take a step forward, bump into someone else, this time someone who shoves me away, hard.
It feels like I’m falling. I am falling.
But I’m falling so slowly, so gracefully. Surely my wings will save me…
But it’s not wings that save me. It’s something solid, something that I realize are arms, strong arms, holding me like a marble statue.
I find my footing and slowly turn around. “Why are you so pretty? Like a pretty statue…”
“You should not be drinking this,” Daemon says, plucking the wine from my hand. He tosses back the rest of it and then throws the goblet off into the grass.
“Hey! That was for my friends!”
His brow furrows. “You have friends here?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
His eyebrows crinkle even further.
“So, I mean, they’re humans, but they still count… We exist, you know. Humans.”
“I’m taking you back to the castle before someone sees you like this,” he says, his voice low and velvety. “If Toryn found you right now…”
“I would use my wings to fly away.” A giggle escapes my lips. “Did you know that I have wings? Of course you don’t.”
“Alright. Enough of that…” Daemon slides his arm through mine and turns me around so we’re facing the castle, then begins to walk.
“I’m not going anywhere with you until you admit I have wings.” I look up at him, and his eyes seem to glow like green mini-moons. The world spins again and I stumble into him, my arms wrapping around his waist to steady myself. “Oops. I can’t seem to… to get them to work properly.”
Daemon sighs. “No doubt. Wings are tricky like that sometimes.”
“Right? I knew you would understand.”
The lights of the ball fall behind us, and ahead the castle is glorious in its own right, hundreds of windows letting out patches of golden light into the black sky. My feet feel light, buoyant, but like I can’t place them down on the ground in any kind of normal fashion.
“Feet are strange…”
There’s a rumble against my cheek, which is pressed half against Daemon’s chest. A rumble that seems suspiciously like laughter. “Yes, feet are tricky, too.”
“He laughs,” I say with a mock gasp. “The great Shadow Walker laughs.”
“You’re clearly delirious. You have a habit of that, don’t you know?”
“I know stuff.” A harumph that turns into a snort escapes my nose. “I know you rescued me. Brought me here. You can call me crazy, but I know.”
“You weren’t supposed to remember that,” he says softly, so softly that I wonder for a moment if I imagined it. “But you, Embyr, seem to be full of surprises.”
Abruptly, the castle looms over us, and I realize somehow we’ve made it all the way back. “No! I have to find my friends. They were going to show me their secret place.”
Daemon pauses, and I have to grab onto him again to keep from falling over. “Secret place?”
“The human party. While you uppity fae have your Queen’s ball.”
“I’m uppity now, am I?” There’s a purr of amusement in his voice, as if he finds this whole situation hilarious.
“Well… not you, I suppose.” I stare up into his eyes, which look slightly more normal now. “You are just… confusing.”
“Confusing. That’s better than uppity. Remember, little blacksmith, I’m no more welcome here than you are.”
“I won’t tell anyone you’re planning a rebellion,” I say solemnly.
Daemon stares at me for several long moments, then he says, “Why don’t we try to find your friends. And you can tell me about this rebellion you think I’m planning.”
We begin to walk along the edge of the castle toward the river.
The lights of the ball glitter in the distance.
Everything looks like stars tonight, like the sky has come down to the earth for one evening.
As if listening to my thoughts, a wind sweeps down from the mountains, carrying the scent of rain.
It’s chilly and whips my cloak around my ankles as I move.
No wonder I can’t fly, with this heavy thing weighing me down.
I stop walking and pry at the clasp with my fingers.
“What are you doing?” Daemon asks.
“This… damnable cloak is blocking my wings.”
Daemon’s hands move up to cover mine. I wonder if he can feel my heart thudding under his fingers. “Leave that on. It’s too cold for you without your cloak.”
“But I still think flying would be faster.”
“You’re not wrong. But it’s a nice night for a walk, don’t you think?”
I consider it a moment and then nod. “Everything is so pretty tonight. As long as you don’t let me fall.”
“I won’t let you fall,” he says, and he leads us forward again. After a few steps he asks, “Why do you think I’m leading a rebellion?”
I look over at him. “Well, isn’t that what everyone thinks?”
“Yes,” he responds. “But I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I want to know why you think that.”
“Because the night you saved me from the hunters, we were hundreds of miles to the south.” Flashes of that night move through my head, which is very much not what I want to think about right now. “Where did that wine go…”
“You most certainly do not need more wine,” Daemon says, and there’s that rumble in his chest again. “Fae wine is not made for human consumption.”
“I know, I know,” I say. “Fae are stronger and live longer and are more magical and are prettier and are better in every way.”
“And fae are also more cruel and more cunning and more jaded and more wicked.” Daemon glances down at me. “There’s nothing wrong with being soft, you know.”
“I am not soft.” I punctuate my statement by stumbling yet again—tricky, tricky feet—and Daemon catches me under my other arm as I fall against his chest. He definitely feels like marble.
Except he is warm and I can feel his heart beating against mine and his eyes are definitely glowing, the moonlight catching them just so…
“Why didn’t you tell anyone that I brought you here?” he asks, those jade eyes searching mine.
“What makes you think I didn’t?”
“Because I’d be in a prison cell now if you had.”
I pause, staring up at him. “I don’t know… at first, I just didn’t think anyone would believe me. But then I met you, and I knew that you didn’t want me to know, that it was important to you… and so, I didn’t.”
“Even though you think I’m leading a rebellion?”
“I could care less who sits on the fae throne,” I say with a laugh. “It doesn’t matter. Not to us humans. Our lives will continue just the same.”
Daemon stiffens and his tone darkens. “You’re quite wrong about that… you have no idea what some of these fae would do if they claimed the Court of Nightmares.”
His sudden change in demeanor sends a flicker of fear through me, fear that shoves back the lightness and bliss of the wine. “So… you’re not planning to overthrow the Queen?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he says, and the hint of a smile is back.
“Well then, why did you sneak out of the castle and come across me all the way in Kyrn?”
“That’s a story for another night.” Daemon lifts me as if I weigh nothing and props me up a few inches away from him. “How are those feet doing?”
“Still there,” I say with a sigh.
The river is a glittering ribbon in the distance, and the sound of rushing water hits my ears.
Other than the moon and stars, the lights of the ball and the castle have fallen behind, and darkness wraps around us.
In the distance, the peaks of the mountains look like dragons, silver and majestic.
I can smell trees and flowers and the faint musk that clings to Daemon’s cloak.
Like leather and earth and the night sky.
“You smell like a man. But like… different than other men.”